Cyborg
by CyberWingz 313
Summary: Kidnapped by former Sector 7 agents, Sam must now cope with being one of their new experiments gone wrong. On the run from the government, can Sam deal with his new Decepticon programming? Can the Autobots reach him in time to stop him from hurting others and himself. Post - RoTF, pre - DoTM. Chapters 3 & 4 Rewritten.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

The man hurried his pace. He was late for the meeting, the meeting that _he'd_ scheduled. He continued down the passage-way, occasionally nodding towards anybody who passed by. He quickened his steps.

The sunlight that filtered through the windows casts shadows that mimicked the middle-aged man's movements. The dull walls next to him carried images that marked important events by date and were framed with steel. On the floor a couple of artificial potted plants were lined along the walls on each side.

Upon reaching the door at the end of the hallway, he glanced both ways before entering his office. The two men waiting inside turned towards the door. Director Theodore Galloway, national security advisor and appointed liaison, nodded briefly to each. "Bragg, Johnston." The room was heavily curtained; hiding the office from all but a little light and from prying eyes.

The man on Galloway's right, Bragg, narrowed his eyes. "You're late."

Galloway adjusted his fine, navy blue suit. "Yes, well, just taking care of business. I'm a busy man you know." He strode over to his desk, set the briefcase he'd been carrying on top, opened it and started looking through some papers.

Bragg's eyes followed the director's every movement. "Let's get started then."

Galloway barely glanced at them. "Now, I have all the required paperwork." He looked up. "I presume that your men have finished with their drawings."

"Yes, they have finished with the _blueprints_. They're just going over them now to make sure they know where to hook up the correct wires," he paused. "As you know, this task is risky, not to mention illegal. We don't want this to screw up like the times before. We're taking every safety precaution as possible."

Johnston summed it up. "Everything is ready."

Galloway focused on him. "Oh, so you've managed to get him?"

"It wasn't easy, but yes, we managed."

"Good," Galloway continued. "And Simmons?"

"Mr. Simmons," Bragg drew Galloway attention back, "Wants no part in this." Galloway look apprehensive. "Not that we told him much anyway," Bragg quickly added. "Just that we need a little assistance on a project and could use an old friend, but he declined. I suppose that's a good thing though we don't want him running about with that mouth of his, telling every one of our plans."

Galloway felt relief rush through him. If what they were doing got out it would ruin him. He spoke quietly. "You'll be able to keep him quiet then?"

"Of course."

"Very good," he replied. "How long will this operation take?"

Bragg stayed quiet while he thought, quickly trying to calculate. "Normally, with a process as - delicate as this one, it would a month, maybe two with us working round-the-clock because of our lack of advanced knowledge and experience in working with biomechanics and this type of abiotic material. But with the help we were able to _catch_ and our previous work and gathered data on NBE-1's structure and inner workings, I'd say… a week? Two weeks tops?" Bragg concluded as he glanced over to his partner for confirmation.

"When shall we proceed?" Johnston spoke.

Galloway checked his watch. "They'll be setting out in about ten hours so you won't have to deal with any of them when you make your move. Just watch out for any soldiers left behind, make sure you get Witwicky alone."

"Do you have the patrol routes and times?" Johnston asked.

"Yes, Yes," Galloway rummaged through some papers, pulled one out and handed it over to Johnston. "Here it is."

Johnston briefly glanced over it. "Good."

Bragg looked over Galloway with a smirk. "You finally did something right, I'm impressed."

Galloway ignored that comment. "I'll send message when they've gone, you figure out the rest," Galloway hesitated, deciding it was time to bring it up. "Have you've got my money? I don't just give anyone the location and patrol routes of one of the most hidden bases in America."

Bragg's voice was gruff. "You'll get your money when we officially start the project." He took the paper Johnston handed him that held the routes and times and slipped it into a black, leather folder he'd been carrying under his arm. "We'll notify you of the time and place where you will receive your dues." He nodded at Johnston to follow and they both slithered out the door as quiet as a snake.

Galloway sighed, snapped shut his briefcase and opened the curtains revealing wide, pane glass windows. He slumped down comfortably in his chair and rubbed his eyes, trying to diffuse the tension. He felt guilty about what was about to transpire. Poor boy. He knew it was wrong, but they'd offered him so much money he'd be a fool to refuse.

Galloway got up, poured himself a drink and promptly sat back down to mull things over, occasionally taking a sip from the glass.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Sam Witwicky thought that he would die before he'd ever make it to the base. It was a sweltering ninety-five degrees Fahrenheit. The blazing, setting sun beat down on him. The sky was filled with brilliant shades of orange, yellows and reds.

The ride from Bumblebee offered a nice breeze through the open window. Sam's head stuck out of it, leaning against the doors frame. He closed his eyes, feeling the cool wind caressing his scalp and twisting through his hair. His lips parted to taste the wind. His moment of bliss ended abruptly when he felt something hit the back of his throat. He coughed and gagged as he tried desperately hack up whatever was choking him. It didn't take long for Samuel James Witwicky to put two and two together.

A fly. The boy who saved the world twice just swallowed a fly. He groaned in disgust and promptly ducked his head back inside. The radio started, tuning in on a show, "Actually, insects are a dietary staple in many cultures. There almost pure protein."

Sam glared daggers at the wireless receiver. "Shut up, Bee," he grumbled. He would never let him live it down.

* * *

><p>The yellow Camaro came to a stop outside the base. In the distance Sam could see Major William Lennox getting ready for another mission. He was organizing his men into groups by the time Sam walked up.<p>

"Alright, team three will be with me. We'll be pinpointing the location of our target," he addressed the soldiers in front of him. "We'll be counting on aerial support for extra fire power if things start to get out of hand, so keep a lookout for them. Try not to make yourself known, this is a surprise attack. I will certainly go a lot smoother if the enemy doesn't suspect us until we strike," he turned to face a different section of the group, "Team six make sure you can establish communications back to the base, we might need some back up." Lennox looked around, accessing the group, their faces filled with determination. "Everyone clear on our objective?" he asked, nodding when they all gave a resounding "Sir, yes, sir," that made Sam's ears ring. "Good," said Lennox. "We leave at sixteen hundred." The team dispersed to finish prepping.

Lennox turned towards Sam and gave him a friendly smile. "Sam, it's good to see you. How've you been?"

Sam returned the smile. "Okay, you know, college and all… Seems like you've been kept busy."

"Well, with all the missions and protocols - those Decepticons just don't to quit, making it hard to find more time with my family." he said. Sam was just going to ask about them when a growl escaped from the Major. "And of course, Galloway." he said, bitterly, glaring over Sam's shoulder, who turned to look and saw a man, that he presumed to be the director, arguing with a few soldiers. He wore an expensive looking suit that seemed out of place at the military base.

Sam turned back in time to catch Lennox rolling his eyes wearily. "I'd better go deal with this." He stalked off. Sam watched him go. He had never seen Galloway before now, but he'd heard enough stories to know that he did not want to meet him and to stay as far away as possible.

Sam drew his attention away and focused on the Autobots. Like Lennox before, Optimus Prime was also addressing his team in the same matter. Bumblebee had already situated himself over to the group. A flash of sliver caught his eye. The wrench Ratchet was holding was raised above his self-targeting Mudflap and Skids, who, like always, were pushing and shoving each other. Ratchet brought down his wrench which made an audible clank as it hit the metal surface of their heads. _Ouch_, Sam thought. The twins, rubbing their sore helms, were enthusiastically pay attention. Bumblebee, who was standing nearby, shuffled nervous away from Ratchet and his wrench. Ironhide tried to suppress a smirk.

By then Lennox had returned. "Hey," he looked over at the Autobots, "Saw that, didn't you?" It happens almost every day now. The twins really know how to get on Ratchet's nerves. And Ironhide's," he added, "But they prefer to stay away from him."

"Why?" Sam asked.

"Let's just say that Ironhide would choose a cannon over a wrench. Which also gets on Ratchet's nerves."

"Oh," he said. He glanced around as silence fell between them. Then he noticed something missing. "Where are Epps and Wheelie?"

"Probably both inside," said Lennox.

"They're not going?" Sam seemed confused, Wheelie sure, but Epps? He's usually seen with Lennox.

Lennox sighed and scratched the back of his head. "We need a few soldiers to stay behind and protect the base. Though I think Rob has been thinking of quitting. He's just not into it like he used to."

"Oh," Sam tried to imagine this place without Epps, he couldn't. Lennox drew him back from his thoughts. "As for Wheelie, I don't know his exact whereabouts. I haven't seen him around for a while, actually."

Sam could only nod. The last time he saw Wheelie was after Mikaela had left him. At the time, because Sam was in college and the Autobots had no known use for him, Wheelie was residing with Mikaela. But when they broke up and his "warrior goddess" kicked him out, he decided to live in Sam's dorm room with him and his roommate, Leo. Of course, the other students didn't take living next door to an autonomous robotic organism to well. The ex-con was forced to move to the base, away from the general public, where he, Sam had heard, felt useless, spending his days moping around and causing trouble.

Sam told Lennox that he was going to say goodbye to Bee before he left and started making his way over. Bumblebee spotted him before he could even get close. When he'd travelled half the distance, he crossed paths with Ratchet. Sam wasn't proud that he almost shrank away from him. It was enough for Ratchet to notice. "Sam." he greeted. "I trust your eating adequately?" he asked.

"Yeah, of course, why wouldn't I -"

"Don't lie to me, Samuel." Sam winced when Ratchet pronounced his first full name. "Your heart rate has increased and your palms have perspired," he continued, while Sam rubbed his hands on his pants trying to get rid of the sweat. "There's no use in hiding it from me. I am a medic. I've scanned your internal organs and what should I find?" Ratchet shook his head. "Junk food and alcohol are hardly a proper meal, Sam," he said with the disappointment his mother had when she scolded him.

"It was just one party and - wait, you scanned me? Sam asked, incuriously. "Ratchet, that's private!"

Ratchet humphed and walked away. Sam shook his head to clear his mind and continued on towards his guardians. He let out a breath. "Bee…bag me a couple of 'Cons, will ya?"

Bumblebee chirped and gave him a thumbs up. Their exchange was soon interrupted by a very feminine voice not too far away. Sam turned his head towards the noise.

It was a woman. She couldn't have been much older than Sam. She looked like she'd just walked out of a Victoria's Secret catalogue, only with clothes on. She noticed that she was being watched and started to make her way over to Sam.

Sam thought he felt close to hyperventilating, but he couldn't be sure. He was distracted, no, captivated by her appearance; her long, blonde hair, her slender figure, her curves…then it hit him. He still felt that Bee was still behind him. He looked up at the transformed Camaro then back towards the woman. Sam's appreciation twisted into confusion. What was a civilian doing here? Did she know…yes, of course she knew. She seemed perfectly at ease with all these giants walking around. This only bewildered Sam further.

She stepped forwards. "Hello," she greeted, her voice filled with a British accent.

"Hi," Sam rather shyly as a slight smile played about on his lips.

Her eyes narrowed as she scrutinized his face more closely. Her mouth parted somewhat in a silent gasp. "You're that alien boy, aren't you?" she asked.

"Yes," Sam replied quickly, coughed, then lowered his voice to try to sound manlier. "I mean, I did save the world - twice," he bragged, "its Sam, actually, Sam Witwicky. But it's okay, you can call me alien boy if you want to."

"Oh, no, I'm sorry. Sam is great," she said with a smile.

Sam smiled too. "So, what are you doing here?" he said abruptly. The woman now had a perplexed look on her face as Sam tried to correct himself. "Well, sorry but, not trying to be rude here, what I meant was what are you, a civilian, doing walking around a military base?"

"She's permitted here because of her father," said a voice. Major Lennox was back. As he joined their group he explained further, "Her is…I guess you could call him the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of staff, or as you might know him as, General, or Admiral Morshower." he concluded.

Sam sputtered, all traces of "manliness" gone. "The General's daughter?"

She flashed her perfect, white teeth, "Yes, my father can't keep a secret can he?" she joked. "Personally, I find them quite fascinating," she said as she glanced over at Bumblebee, who played a song from the radio. She smiled and turned to Lennox. "And you are…"

Lennox held out his hand as she shook it he said, "Major William Lennox, call me Will."

"A major?" she sounded impressed. "Will, alright, good. I'm Carly, Carly Spencer."

After watching his interaction play out, Sam blurted the only thing he could think of. "Wouldn't surname be Morshower?"

Sam thought he'd imagined when Carly's face dropped, her expression now remained guarded. "Yes, well I like to keep a low profile here, so I kept my mother's maiden name," she surmised awkwardly. "Well, I should be going. It was nice meeting you." She turned the other way.

Sam couldn't help but feel he'd struck a nerve - family problems, perhaps? - What he also couldn't suppress was the smile that had been growing widely on his face as she walked out of range. "She said I was great," he exclaimed proudly as he watched her sleek figure disappear in the distance.

"You're such a school girl," Lennox said.

Sam had forgotten he was standing right next to him. "Shut up. I was great, you were good. You're just being jealous."

Lennox rolled his eyes. "Whatever, I think she likes you."

"Really?" Sam asked, desperately wishing it could be true.

"No," said the major. Lennox noticed Sam's frown and quickly spoke to stop Sam from sulking. "It's too early to tell," he hinted with a lopsided smile and checked his watch. He cursed, "Time to go," he muttered. He started to leave but stopped in his tracks and turned back towards Sam. "Good luck with that."

"You too," Sam said, nodding towards the direction Lennox would be travelling. Sam then looked up towards the sky at Bee. He was suddenly speechless when faced with the Cybertronian looking down at him expectantly. "Happy hunting's?" he tried.

Bee nodded, optics shining brightly, "B-b-b-y-y-e-e-e…S-s-s-a-a-a-m-m," Bee tried to say but it mostly came out as static, scratchy and incoherent. Sam, used to spending time and communicating with his guardian understood what he meant and returned it, "Bye, Bee," he said quietly whilst Bumblebee transformed into that familiar bright, yellow Camaro with black racing stripes and drove off to regroup with the others.

Sam was now left standing alone, looking for something to do until he spotted a recognizable face off to the side. "Epps," he said when he had walked across the tarmac to him. "So I'm guessing you're in charge while their gone?"

Yeah, but I don't mind. It's a lot less stressful when bullets aren't flying over your head." he said. Sam smiled at the sergeant's sense of humour but then immediately stopped when Epps wasn't smiling back. There was no trace of humour on his face, he was serious.

Sam cleared his throat awkwardly when Epps spoke up, "Do you need a ride back to the college? You can stay a bit longer if you want, but let me know when you want to go leave and I'll send someone for you."

"Thanks," Sam said but was interrupted by the growl of his stomach, demanding to be fed. "But I think I'm gonna head over to the cafeteria, I didn't get a chance to eat lunch, well, except for that fly on the way in," Sam clapped Epps on the shoulder, not noticing the puzzled look on the sergeant's face as he headed over to the far, south end of the base.

Sam Witwicky also didn't notice the man standing back in the shadows. His eyes trailing him all the way down the building. _Target in sight._

* * *

><p>Eventually, Sam made his way over to the cafeteria and joined a group of soldiers who were also having a late lunch together.<p>

They were debating over football teams - to which Sam was only half listening to when one soldier cut in, "Heads up, Galloway 10 o'clock."

Sam pivoted in his seat to look at the man in the business suit holding a briefcase. They locked eyes. A cold shiver ran down his back. There was something off about the way that director looked at him. It was as if he shouldn't - couldn't trust him. Sam made a mental note to keep his guard up as the liaison came closer and stopped at the table Sam and the military men were occupying.

"Good afternoon, men," he said, brusquely. Everyone at the table grumbled their salutations with a "sir", "Galloway", or just a nod. Sam stayed silent as the greetings were exchanged and, by the looks the others were giving Galloway, knew that there were others things that they wanted to call him.

Galloway looked down at him. "Well, well, Mr. Witwicky or known 'round here as "alien boy" or even _robot boy. _How nice of you to grace us with your presence."

Sam met his glare. "I didn't ask for any of this," he shot back. The soldiers at the table stayed quiet, but tense in case any physical confrontation arose.

"Of course you didn't," Galloway replied, calmly, "But it is astounding, isn't it? What with all the trouble you've managed to cause."

Sam felt fire rise in his cheeks, but before he could do anything, the man across from him spoke, "Leave the kid alone, Galloway, before you start something."

Galloway eyed the defender, seemingly lost in thought. "Indeed…" he uttered so quietly Sam almost didn't catch it. Galloway turned back towards Sam. "My sincerest apologies," he said a bit sarcastically. Then is eyes soften with something akin to guilt, "I do hope you can forgive me," he added in a way that sounded like it had a double meaning. "Enjoy your lunch - while you can." He turned and strode away.

"Dick," someone mutter when he was gone, but Sam didn't bother to check who. That last statement sounded like a threat.

"Don't let what he said getcha," said the same soldier who told Galloway off, "He's all talk and nothing else."

Sam silently agreed, albeit hesitantly. He wouldn't try anything, right? Sam pondered. No, he decided, he wouldn't do anything. He was just trying to intimidate him. After coming to that consensus he finished his lunch.

Later, he found himself wondering down the halls looking for Epps so he could get a ride back to the dorm. With little success so far he turned down another hall and, oh what a surprise, more plain and dingy walls. He sighed in frustration then halted. That strange someone-is-watching-me feeling brushed over him and he looked back the way he came.

Empty.

* * *

><p>The two ex-agents stood quietly side-by-side in an empty hangar. They had no need to fear being spotted thanks to the schedule, generously, yet unwillingly, given to them by Galloway.<p>

Not a word was uttered between the two. They'd revised their strategy over and over again. It was quite simple, really. Inside Johnston's front pocket was a little white cloth, neatly folded. They would seeking up from behind and put him out so he couldn't draw attention. Then, having already analyzed the patrol routes, they would seek out of the area, unseen, and get to the "get away" car the men had waiting for them.

But first they had to wait for Galloway to send message of the boy's whereabouts. As the time grew, so did their frustration. They had been waiting for nearly an hour and a half. It was starting to get ridiculous.

Bragg sighed harshly, making Johnston shift nervously, casting a glance at him from the corner of his eye. Bragg was known for his impatience. He would get frustrated enough to explode. No one would guess that he was short tempered given the calm and assertive demeanor he projects.

Johnston silently prayed that this wouldn't become another one of his episodes when he heard something give off noise. He glanced over to see Bragg reading a message from his phone and let out a sigh of relief.

"It's Galloway," Bragg said, that much was obvious. "The boy has managed to get himself lost in the western sector. We're close. Passage way two-thirty-nine," he finished.

"Let's go," Johnston said. He had the map, so it wouldn't be too difficult to locate Witwicky. It was time to put their plan into action.

* * *

><p>Sam continued his way down the hall and did not look back. Not once. He'd seen enough horror films, and had lots of experience running from Trent and his buddies, to know that nothing ever came good from looking back.<p>

He tried to put the conversation he had with Galloway in the back of his mind but the thought kept pushing its way to the forefront. He couldn't shake the feeling of being threatened. The long tunnels and those God awful fluorescent lights didn't help his mood.

He couldn't wait until he got back to the college and to lay lazily on his bed, burrowed beneath his covers. Thinking of that put his mind at ease and reinforced his determination to find Epps.

Echoes of footsteps reached his ears. They picked up their pace. Out of reflex, Sam turned around, hoping it was Epps or some other soldier off duty, who was willing to bring him across state, and was met with a blow to the abdomen.

Sam felt the air rush out of him all at once leaving him breathless. As the pain exploded through his body, he kneeled forward. Before he could catch his breath, however, he felt someone from behind jerk his head back up and instantaneously cover his mouth.

He struggled. Fighting to break loose for some air he'd managed to get out a "let go of me!" before he was back to inhaling whatever was in the man's hand. He took another hit in the torso from the other man standing in front of him. The man wore dark sunglasses and a black business suit from what Sam could observe. He assumed that the other one was dressed accordingly too.

His vision started to blur and fade as he slumped down into the man holding him up. They started to speak but their voices were distorted, he couldn't make out what they were saying. The room started to spin uncontrollably. Then he fell into darkness.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

The Decepticon known as Menasor, made up of all five different Stunticons put together, smashed his way through the now damaged streets of Venice, Italy, late that evening.

Streetlights, cars, and corner stores were crushed under the weight of his feet as he tried to escape from the Autobots. It had gone so smoothly at first. He had detected their presence while trying to regroup with some of his fellow comrades. After Egypt, no less than eight months ago, it had left them scattered.

Menasor had managed to prevent a couple of Autobots from doing any real damage, but, regrettably, they didn't stay down for long. The humans had arrived with an aerial assault. Death from above.

Damn fleshlings. How he hated them. Them, and this mud ball planet they inhabited. It was too full of organic life. They had already taken down a couple of his fellow partners. Only a few remained.

The massive Decepticon hated running away, he'd rather stand and fight. But he had little choice in the matter. If he wanted to stay alive in this war, he was going to have to be smart about it. Know your enemy. And right now, he knew, they were giving his aft a well-deserved kick.

* * *

><p>Up on top of a very high building, one of the few that were still standing in this area, crouched Laserbeak, watching the scene below. His 202 optics scanning the ground floor, taking in everything. The streets were demolished. Fleshlings of different shape and size, running, fleeing from the locality. Fleeing from Menasor, who was being overrun by those persistent Autobots.

He had warned him. Warned Menasor to keep a low profile, even had the decency to send him a comm., telling him to retreat. But no, Menasor was too proud himself to let them win. He was now currently being ripped apart by their weapons specialists and Optimus Prime.

_So be it._ Laserbeak stretched his metallic wings and launch himself off of the building, using the air to help him control his momentum during flight. He had to go and report to the others, or more importantly, Megatron. He was not going to be happy.

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, driving down an empty alleyway, encased in a Chevrolet Cobalt SS, Swindle tried making a hasty escape from the fury of, a now gaining, Sideswipe.<p>

An opening appeared down towards the end of the backstreet. _So close._ He was going to make it.

Above him, on top of a building, smaller than the one that held Laserbeak, a bright, yellow Camaro transformed as he propelled himself off the buildings side, landing right on top of the stunned Swindle, who soon transformed, as well. Behind him Sideswipe followed in suit. Both Autobots were now blocking both exits. If he wanted to leave this passage, he would have to fight for his life. Outnumbered and alone. He would be unsuccessful.

* * *

><p>Menasor's right arm, a 1976 Tyrrell P34 Formula One car known as Drag Strip, was ripped from his formed socket and was now currently being ambushed by the Autobots medic.<p>

One by one, the five Stunticons were separated, then taken down by surrounding Autobots and humans alike. It was over.

The streets of Venice were as quiet as a ghost town, deserted. The humans, who were not fighting, had already fled the town.

Bumblebee and Sideswipe, having dealt with Swindle, his remains nothing more than a pile of scrap metal, made their way over to the rest of the group. A doctor, part of NEST, of course, was making rounds to all of the injured. As was the same for Ratchet, who was also doing the same, only for the Autobots instead.

"Nice to have you back, Bee." said Sideswipe, in a rather good mood seeing how they had won with no fallen warriors. "It's been awhile since we've fought alongside one another." Bee chirped happily.

After everyone was checked, there had only been a few minor injuries, they prepared to set out again. It took them a day to get here. Mostly driving, then by a C-17 plane. It took them almost half a day to search and destroy.

While driving Bee sent a comm. link to Sideswipe, not needing his radio to do this, "Hey, Sides," trying hard to suppress laughter, "Have I ever told you about the time Sam swallowed a fly?"

When he opened his eyes everything was a blur. He blinked. His vision cleared a little. He blinked several more times, until his sight had completely cleared. It didn't help, he still couldn't see. It was pitch black all around him, except for the dim white light coming from under, what Sam assumed was, a metal door.

Sam Witwicky groaned, head groggy. He sat up, but soon found his head hitting something hard. He groaned again and winced in pain. He raised his hands to see what barrier stood in his way.

His hands came in contact with metal. Thins metal lines ran across, horizontally, above his head with gaps in between each one. The same for the side and the bottom. A cage. Sam was in a cage. His breathing picked up. Sam absolutely hated tight spaces. He hated feeling confined.

Something caught out of the corner of his eye. Two red circles, staring back at him, hovering in mid-air. They blinked. Sam's breathing picked up even further as he pressed his back up against the cage. "Sam?" A voice whispered, "Is that you?" It spoke again.

Sam's eyes squinted in the darkness, "Wheelie?" He whispered back, "W-what are you doing here? Where are we?" Wheelie snorted. "_I_ am here, against my will I might add, to aid with their experiment," he sounded disgusted and annoyed at the same time. "You on the other hand _are_ the experiment."

"Experiment?" Sam's breathing picked up double time and this dark confinement wasn't helping, "What experiment? What's this got to do with me?"

"Believe me, pal, I know about as much as you do," Wheelie responded.

"Well, don't just stand there get me out! Why do you sound so calm about all this?" Wheelie sighed, "Because, Sam, I've stopped panicking a long time ago. I've had to of been in here for almost a week now. And to answer you're earlier question, I do not know where we are," Wheelie sighed again, "And I can't do nothin' about this cage, I'm locked up too."

Sam was still breathing heavily. "Well, won't they come to check on us? We could attack them and get out of here."

"Fat chance," Wheelie replied, "One: were both trapped in a cage, and two: even if they were to let us out, they're both strong and twice my size…and they disabled my weapons and communications systems, so I can't fight them or get into contact with the others."

Sam cursed. And sat there in silence for a moment, trying to calm down and gather his thoughts. Then, he asked, "What are they going to do to me?"

Sam felt Wheelie tense up beside him, "I'm not exactly sure," he sounded wary, "From what I've seen I think they're going to - " Sam winced at the sound of a door closing, just outside the room they were both being kept in, and snapped his head towards the sound.

Two voices were audible, now, and were getting louder. "Shh, they're coming," Wheelie said.

"Wait, what are they going t-," That's when the door to the room opened and two shadowed figures, rounded at the shoulders, filled the doorframe.

The one to the left of Sam stepped forward, unlocked and opened the door to Sam's cage. He bolted. But they quick. The closest one, who opened the door, grabbed him and called for assistance from the other. Sam continued to struggle, while Wheelie kept shouting profanities and asking for a fight.

Sam managed to free one arm and lashed out at the one's face. He let him go. But the second stood in his way and struck Sam in the jaw, grabbed him and pulled out a needle. When the syringe broke through his skin, Sam cried out the only hope he had left, "BUMBLEBEE!"


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

Sergeant Robert Epps was not in a good mood. He hadn't slept much within the last couple of days and he was exhausted. First he had been having thoughts retiring from the Air Force, and, secondly, Samuel James Witwicky had been reported missing, under his watch. Icing on the cake.

It had all started with a phone call. A couple of hours after the Autobots and Lennox's team had left, Epps went off to search for the young man, only to find that he wasn't anywhere on the site. He assumed that one of the other soldiers had offered him a ride and accepted. That wasn't that case.

The next day Epps received an upsetting, not to mention loud, phone call. Sam's parents, Ron and Judy Witwicky, had filed a complaint against the base, claiming that they had kidnapped their son. What Epps soon found out was that Ron and Judy had gone to Sam's college for a visit. They'd gone up to Sam's dorm room only to find Sam's roommate, Leo Spitz and a couple of his nerdy friends.

From what Epps had heard, Leo had told them that he had not seen Sam, nor his "car", since yesterday when he had set off for the base. They checked everywhere. Epps and a few soldiers checked around the base. Ron and Judy checked Tranquility, their house and even Mikaela's place. Then Leo and his friends, the college. And they knew for a fact that Sam had not journeyed with the Autobots. Bumblebee wouldn't allow it. And Epps had watched them leave Sam behind.

And now to make matters worse, the Autobots were due to be back today and were not going to be pleased. Particularly Bumblebee. This was going to get ugly.

* * *

><p>Ex-agent Bragg gazed through the large glass window into the operating room at the doctors, scientists, and engineers working on their unconscious subject. The large glass window was similar to the ones you see on those medical soap operas.<p>

The door to his left opened. Johnston and another former agent stepped through. With them, having a chain wrapped around his neck like a leash, was the ex-Decepticon Wheelie.

Energon leaked through certain joints on his mechanical body, from where several ex-agents, including Bragg himself, had tasered him into behaving. They walked up beside him. Bragg crouched, so they'd be more at eye level.

"Well, now." Bragg said. "Have we reconsidered?"

Wheelie spit in his face. The nameless ex-agent handed him a handkerchief, to wipe the oil off his face, as Bragg nodded to Johnston who, promptly, took out a rectangular black box and tasered Wheelie. He yelped in pain.

Bragg took a deep breath, "Let's try this again." He said. "I would send you back to the cage to rethink your answer, but, I'm afraid, we don't have the time for that so," he nodded again, Johnston tasered, Wheelie yelped. "Are you going to help us, or not?"

"It's can't," Wheelie gasped. Bragg smirked, "Oh, I think we can," sounding smug.

No, I mean, it's impossible," Wheelie continued, "You have no idea what you are doing -"

"That," he interrupted, "Is precisely why you're here."

"No, you can't use _his_ shard." Wheelie explained.

Bragg was now interested. "Go on."

Wheelie gulped. "If you use the shard, it'll be like you're…bringing him back," Wheelie paused, "Shards contain…parts of ourselves," Brag looked unconvinced. "Like a soul, you could say. If you use it on Sam, it will give him some of his… traits, make him like him. They'll be like brothers - twins - almost. Bonded like blood brothers, as the humans would say."

"So your worried about Witwicky being, as you've said, bonded to someone who's no longer alive?" Bragg asked.

"No," Wheelie responded, "You don't understand. It'll be like he's back, he's a powerful ancient being, and you can't mess with something that strong."

"Don't worry, we have everything under control," Bragg said, before continuing, "I was under the impression that you were not very fond of the boy." Bragg then asked, "Have you've grown a soft spot?"

Wheelie looked insulted. "What are you kidding?"

"So I am to presume that you were trying to protect him, to save your own "skin"." The former agent chuckled at his own joke.

"Duh." Wheelie thought it was obvious.

Bragg smirked, "Oh, how _faithful_ of you." He spat. Wheelie cringed.

Bragg continued to smirk, "Really, there's no need, as I have said, we've got this under control." He stood up. "Now, get in there so we may proceed on schedule."

Wheelie seemed outraged. "What are you deaf?" This caused Bragg's smiled to drop. "You can put a piece of The Fallen into the boy's heart."

* * *

><p>Epps and another soldier were leaning back against a couple of wooden boxes in the Autobots hangar. Where the Autobots and most likely Lennox and his team would end up being when they've arrived back.<p>

They got in contact with them and they would be here within ten minutes. The soldier next to him, on his right spoke up, "I'm just saying it would've been easier to tell them over the phone."

Epps shook his head. No, this had to be done in person. Better in here, then on a C-17 plane, raised at three thousand feet, where Bumblebee would most likely have a fit and blow the plane to bits.

The soldier sighed, then said quickly, "Dibs on not having to tell them." Epps cursed, he was just about to call that. Telling someone that someone important to them, who just so happened to save the world twice, is missing wasn't a problem. The problem was telling someone, who is at least twenty five feet tall, armed and well trained with humongous cannons that someone important to them was missing. Now that was a different story.

The door to the hangar opened. Epps stiffened. This wasn't going to go over well.

The 'Bots came in first. Optimus was in the lead, of course, then Ironhide, and Ratchet, and so on and so forth. After they rolled in the sounds of Lennox and his team cheering were now audible. Obviously, we won. The soldier standing beside him, spoke again, "Don't worry," he put his hand on Epps shoulder, "I'm here for moral support."

Epps replied, "For who? Me or Bumblebee?" The soldier didn't respond.

The Autobots all transformed as Lennox made his way over here. "Hey," Will breathed, "We won." He finished stating the obvious.

"I've noticed." Epps said glumly.

"What's up with you?" Lennox asked, then comprehension dawned on him. "Oh, hey, you're not still mad about us leaving you behind, are you? Because next time I'll -"

Epps stopped him there. "No," he said, "Not that."

"Then," Lennox seemed confused, "What is it?"

"I've got another problem for you to solve."

Will replied, "What?"

Epps looked at the soldier standing next to him. He looked back. "What? I ain't telling them."

"Didn't say you had to." Epps retorted. But the soldier wasn't listening. He was looking at an imaginary watch on his wrist. "Well, would you look at the time? I'm on duty so…have fun."

"What happened to my moral support?"

The soldier looked to Lennox, "I haven't got a clue on what he's talking about." He left the hangar.

"Epps." Lennox said. He turned to his friend, to only find that everyone in this room was staring at him. He found perspiration developing at the base of his throat. He tugged at the collar of his shirt.

"Epps," Lennox repeated, "What's wrong? Please tell me it's not another Decepticon."

How he wished it was. "No," he sighed. He glanced cautiously at Bee. He was standing next to Sideswipe. He looked back, but his look was expectant.

They waited. "Okay, don't freak out." He said this more to Bee than anyone else. "But, Sam has been declared missing. He never made it home the after you guys left a couple of days ago."

It was quiet for a couple of seconds before Bee abruptly reacted.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

Doctor Carson J. Bensette, Sector 7's former chief medical scientist, viewed the diagram of their patient. The diagram was constructed by, top engineer, Melissa P. Carter, who was going over it, explaining to him what needed to be done next. The chart consisted of all the wiring and cables, where they needed to be hooked up, and where all the joints would fit into place. It also embodied all the areas where weapons, and other gadgets would be stored. It was almost complete. Nearly finished. They just needed one last piece of the puzzle.

Carter, who was standing next to him, while he held the chart, muttered quietly, "The shard's all that's left, sir."

Bensette didn't respond. He turned 'till he faced the small ex-Decepticon, sitting back on a tray carrying various tools they have used. Bensette walked up to him. "You," he addressed, "The shard will work, yes?"

Wheelie did not like being here against his own will. He had helped the humans. Their knowledge only went so far. And a Cybertronian's system was complex. So after being prodded by them, instructing them, and tasered a few times by them, they had done as much as they could. Only one final step to be made.

"As I've said, yes." Wheelie answered. "But there will be consequences." He said. "Continue at your own risk."

The doctor had finished listening. He strode over to a shelving unit and grabbed a little, purple plastic container box and set it on the tray, next to Wheelie. Then he proceeded to take off his rubber gloves. Wheelie looked over to Carter and whistled. "Aren't you a sight for sore eyes?" She just rolled her eyes at him and shook her head in response.

Wheelie continued to pester, "Hard to get, huh? Okay, I'm in for a little roll playing. I'm locked here against my will, do what you want to me - I yield."

Carson had heard enough of this nonsense and spat, "Quiet you." Wheelie held his hands up in defense. "Alright, geez. Just trying to reduce the tension, you're too serious, man."

Bensette ignored him. He grabbed a pair of tweezers from the tray and reached into the box. Beyond them, ex-agent Bragg was watching in uncontrolled anticipation. Carson J. Bensette then took out the shard. A shard out of many that had originally come from The Fallen's spark itself. This was the last of them. He stepped towards the opened area of the subject's heart, still beating inside its contained walls.

"That piece should react with the metal and form a spark around his heart." Wheelie said, helpfully. Though he would never admit it, he was just as eager to see if it could be done. To combine metal and organic tissue perfectly. To create a living, breathing cyborg. Man and machine.

Carson took a deep breath as he looked down at Samuel James Witwicky. He looked so peaceful. He had no idea what was in store for him. Bensette prayed that it work. This was their last piece, their last hope. This shard would determine if Sam Witwicky would either live, or die. He placed the shard into its metal casing. A spark chamber.

The moment the shard touched the surface, a blue wave of energy shot out from it, passing right through them and through the walls. It disappeared.

The doctor and everyone else seemed fine. None of the equipment came to life. So that was good. Everyone went quiet, wondering the same thing. Did it work?

Carson leaned forward to inspect. A spark had formed where the subject's heart should be. It had worked. While Bensette was busy gazing into the spark in amazement, the subjects eyes, opened, both iris crimson red. Seeing Bensette as the closest threat, Sam shot his arm out and wrapped his hand around the doctor's throat.

Chaos broke loose. While Carson was choking, Carter called for some help whilst trying to pry Sam's hand off of Carson's neck. But it was like his arm was made of solid rock, it would not budge. Wheelie tried to break out of the room crying out, "I told you! He's back! Were all goners!"

Two ex-agents broke into the room and, with difficulty, finally managed to break Sam's hold on Bensette and then everyone back up against the wall, away from Sam.

There was a sudden clicking and creaking sound coming from the subject. All of this mechanical parts started to connect in its proper place. Then all of the opened areas they had used to operate, started to close shut. Healed completely. All except for his chest. There was a long, thin scar that indicated where they had cut, to get to his heart.

Sam groaned in pain, then promptly laid back on the table and closed his eyes. There was another brief moment of silence. Then Bragg, who had entered at some point, spoke up, "He's ready," he breathed, "Get the truck started, boys. It's time to deliver the Autobots a package."

* * *

><p>The doors to the "delivery" truck were closed and sealed. Their experiment, unwitting to its surroundings. Bragg, after finishing the final arrangements, opened the passenger door and was about to climb in, when Johnston stopped him.<p>

"So," Johnston began, "Would you mind explaining to me how, exactly, is this supposed to help us - Galloway - take control over NEST's operations."

Bragg didn't miss a beat. "Galloway worries about secrecy. If the Autobots were to be discovered, he would have a lot of explaining to do, not just to the country, but the entire world. He is their appointed liaison, after all." He paused. "And what with all the damage they have inflicted during the each mission, people are going to start to question." He finished.

"But," Johnston protested, "People already know they exist. The Decepticons broadcast themselves internationally almost a year back, during that whole Egypt crisis."

"Not everyone believes, though they're starting to. And the more conflict the Autobots cause, the more work for Galloway. The more tension between countries. With us "housing" giant alien robots, they may think we might use them to forge an attack to gain more territory. Invade rival countries with technology, they have never even imagined of." Bragg continued, "Therefore, we need the missions to go a lot more smoothly - more…subtle." He decided. "Besides, Galloway isn't fond of them. He would love to be able to do things his way, without them bickering."

The ex-agent Johnston looked like he was trying to pass a kidney stone, conflicted. "But how does the kid tie into all this?" He asked.

"The Witwicky boy has been outfitted by design, with the most advanced human and Cybertronian technology. With these - abilities - we could use it against them. Make them do as we see fit. Threaten them, even. And they wouldn't dare lift a finger against the boy. Especially the yellow one."

"Oh," Johnston seemed almost shy, "But, uh, how do we get him to do all this?" He whispered.

Bragg pulled out a small, black device from the front pocket on his pants and held it up. "Know what it is?" Johnston shook his head, no. "This device allows me to control Witwicky's movements. They have inserted a chip, at the back of his neck, under his skin, that connects to the nerves of his brain. If I tell him what to do he'll do it. But if he were to resist me, I'll push this button," he pointed to a small red button, near the top left corner of the device, "And he'll receive a _shocking_ surprise. We may even be able to get him to put one on the Autobots." Bragg finished with a laugh. "Let's move."

Bragg climbed in, while the other strode around the truck and into the driver's seat.

* * *

><p>Smoke billowed from the remaining fire. Soldiers were rushing around, trying to put the fire out as the Major addressed the situation in front of him. Looking at the destruction of the base.<p>

Only half of it was left. After Epps told Bumblebee of Sam's disappearance, he went on a rampage through the base trying to find him in disbelief. And leaving in his wake, destruction. The other soldiers had tried to tell him that they'd already searched the here, but he wouldn't listen. After their failed attempts, the Autobots stepped in. But in the end it was Optimus and Ratchet who finally calmed him down. In Lennox's experience, he had never actually he the Big Guy yell, until then. It was overpowering…and a bit frightening.

Epps came over then, to join Lennox in his surveillance. His face had a light sheen of sweat. "So," he breathed, "How's the Bug?"

By the "Bug" he meant Bee. It was a nickname the base had come up with. The others had nicknames, as well. Like for instance, Optimus: the Big Guy. The names were pretty obvious. It took a while for the 'Bots to get used to. Back on Cybertron, apparently, they were all out formal, always using their full, proper name. But eventually they found that it was one way how humans would express affection. In a friendly sense, of course.

"He's fine," Will said, "Stressed, but fine. Ratchet slipped him some sort of…Cybertronian drug or whatever it was. It temporary sedated him."

"Cybertronian drug?" Epps questioned.

Lennox sighed. "I don't know, ask Ratchet. I'm sure he will be pleased to give you lecture to their anatomy."

Epps paled. Lennox, despite the calming chaos, laughed. "C'mon." Lennox said as he led him to the Autobots new, temporary hangar, until the old one could be repaired.

"Galloway's going to give us hell for this," Epps complained.

The Major snorted. "Don't even get me started on him. I have enough on my plate as it is." Lennox grumbled, "This is exactly the kind of leverage he needs. He going to hold it over our heads for sure."

When they arrived at the hangar, Bumblebee was up. He looked solemn. Epps walked up to him. "Hey, Bee. How you doin'?" He patted his foot. Bumblebee lowered his head and looked away, ashamed. "It's not your fault. I shouldn't have dumped that on you the second you came through that door." _The door that is now in bits and pieces_, he added mentally. With that reminder, Bumblebee become even more upset, he whined. Not wanting to repeat the same episode, Epps quickly calmed him down. "Hey, don't worry about it. We have it all under control. We'll find him soon."

Bee still looked regretful, but, to his credit, he held his head high and nodded. At least that was something. Lennox walked up beside Epps and murmured in his ear, "Guess he won't be staying."

"Huh?" Epps looked puzzled.

William Lennox nodded upwards. "Bumblebee. Sideswipe invited him to stay a bit longer before heading back to Sam. The others encouraged him as well. They really miss him. But…seeing what just happened, the second we find him he won't let him out of his sight."

* * *

><p>Hours later, after the fire had been long since put out, the soldiers started to do clean up, so that the builders would have room to work tomorrow. The bad news, the Autobots were restricted and had been locked up in the hangar for the time being.<p>

The sun had just started to rise and with it casting shadows appeared, breaking through the windows. All was hushed and serene, besides the fact that Sam was gone. That is until their delivery arrived. And with it more chaos to come.

Lennox was chatting quietly with the Autobots, deciding on what to do about Sam, when one of the other soldiers from communications appeared next to him, wanting to speak.

"Not now, I'm busy," Lennox grumbled.

"Sir," the soldier spoke," It's urgent."

The Major sighed. "What?"

"There are men here, men not a part of NEST, and they have requested an audience with the Autobots."

"What? Civilians? Who are they?"

"That I am not clear on, sir, but they said they have your Witwicky fellow."

At this, Bumblebee perked right up and was on his feet, eager. The door wings on his back were at full height.

Epps had joined them then. "Well, let them in."

The Major cut in. "Sorry, not gonna happen. We can't let unauthorized citizens at the base. Even _if _they know about the Autobots."

Bee started to whine, while other protested. Eventually, Lennox couldn't take it anymore. He gave in. "Alright, let them in. But let's keep this to ourselves."

The soldier nodded and strode away. After what felt like hours, the doors to the hangar finally opened.

* * *

><p>He groaned. The pain. The pain was like nothing he's ever experienced before. His body ached and was stiff; rigid. His chest burned. His throat; dry. Sweat made his shirt cling to him. It made him extremely uncomfortable.<p>

Sam Witwicky was laid down on his back in, what looked to him, a cargo truck. His head and shoulders were leaned up against the side of truck, so that he was halfway to sitting up. The ground was covered in bits of hay. Did they think he was some sort of animal? With a convulsion, he coughed. Using his arms as support, he doubled over, his head facing the ground. He hacked up bile. Empty stomach. Figures.

He went back to his original position, panting. Where was he? Or better question, where was he going? He felt, then heard something pop into place. He cried out.

There were still a few joints that had yet to connect. Sam suddenly felt a little better. He didn't feel as stiff. He felt almost flexible, strong. And the power. He felt it coursing through his veins. The eighteen year old felt as if he could bench two-hundred, maybe more. It felt good.

The rumbling and bumping of the truck slowed down to a stop. Sam caught a few muffled words. He was surprised on how well he could hear. "Sorry, sir," said an unfamiliar voice, "But you need identification and authorization to be able to continue."

"We need to speak with the Autobots," demanded a different, but still unfamiliar voice. At this Sam perked up.

"How do you know-?"

"We know a lot of things. Now if you would please be so kind as to point us in the right direction of the hangar, we'll be on our way." Continued the second voice.

"That's classified information." The other guy said firmly. Sam could almost hear the anger in his voice.

"Save it for someone who actually cares, soldier," the second guy responded, sounding cruel. "We've got a delivery. Their kid, Samuel James Witwicky, ever heard of him?"

"Yes." said the soldier replied almost hesitantly.

"Well, we've got him. New and improved." There was a moment's pause, then. "Wait here."

It was silent for about five to ten minutes. Then the truck started to move again. The sound of a big door opening reached his now highly sensitive ears. The truck stopped and the sound of the driver and passenger door opened and closed. People started talking, but Sam wasn't listening. Another relapse of pain had struck him and he tried hard not to call out.

His whole body felt like a charley horse. After a long minute, he couldn't help. He cried out. Everyone on the outside went quiet. Then there was a familiar whine from the side opposite of Sam. Bee. Sam struggled to get up. After a few failed attempts he managed. He had to get out.

By now everyone had gone back to talking, well, arguing is more accurate. Sam made it to the side he heard Bee from and banged his fist on it. The most primitive way of saying: let me out. The whole truck shuddered and rocked. Whoa. He didn't think he'd it that hard. Something definitely strange was going on with him. He heard footsteps coming close. Then the back end opened, letting light in.

It blinded him at first, but his eyes quickly adjusted. He saw two figures standing outside the truck. The men who kidnapped him! Both just the same as the last time he saw them. Sunglasses, dressed in black suits, with ties. The sight of them made him made him growl. Literally.

A deep, low, throaty sound came out at the base of his throat, vibrating throughout his body. They took a step back. Where had that come from? Sam wondered. There was no way he was going out there. Not with them. What were they going to do?

Another whine. The temptation was too strong. "Bee…he murmured. He bolted out of the truck.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

He launched himself from the truck. Sam made sure to give the two men a wide berth. He turned out of the truck doors and stopped. He could see that most of the Autobots and just a few of the Major's men, including Lennox, were in the hangar. Seeing them almost brought a smile of relief to his face.

Sam started to walk toward the most familiar, Bumblebee, who was crouched down with his arms extended, wiggling his fingers, coaxing him over.

Then a voice sounded from behind him. "Subject 0-1-3, stop."

Sam felt that he could go no further. He jerked to a stop as if there was an invisible barrier standing before him. He looked forward bewildered. Bumblebee whined again when he saw him stop and stood up. Sam tried to will his body to move again, but it would not budge. He pushed harder and harder, until he managed to lift one leg. That's when he felt an excruciating pain in his head. He cried out and fell to his knees, his hands on either side of his face as if it would helped make the pain go away. It was like having a really bad migraine, only worse.

Bumblebee and Lennox both surged forward, while Ratchet scanned him. What he found was very peculiar, but he stayed quiet, only sending a report to Optimus.

"Meet," announced the same, now, familiar voice, and "The first ever, successful cyborg."

There was a strange murmur around the room. Some shook their heads in disbelief, some didn't even know what a cyborg was. The man continued, "For those who are a bit slow, part man, and part machine." He glanced towards the Autobots at that last part.

The Autobots had offended looks on their metallic face as if they were insulted by being referred to as a machine. But the only look on the man's face was pride.

Sam seemed confused. Were they talking about him? He looked up. All eyes and optics were on him. That confirmed his question. But…what exactly did they do to him?

Optimus, after reading Ratchet's findings, seemed just as confused, his face grave. "Please," he spoke, "Tell us what and why you did this to him." Even though his voice was kind, his face wasn't. He glared daggers at the man. Prime had caught the familiar spark signal. Could it be…?

The man in black held up his hands in defense. "Now, before I explain, please note that this was not my idea."

"Oh, really?" Lennox said through gritted teeth, "Then whose was it?"

"It is…classified." He decided. "According to our negotiations in our contract, I am unauthorized to give the names and whereabouts of said person."

Lennox sighed in frustration. _Of course_. They'll have to interrogate him later. "Then get on with it."

The nameless man cleared his throat before beginning. "As I have already mentioned earlier, a group of covert scientists, doctors, and engineers have created the first cyborg, the only one of his kind." He nodded towards Sam. "Gentleman and…whatever it is you call yourself, meet subject 0-1-3." As you may have already guessed by the title, he, or "it" is now the proper term, is our thirteenth attempt at creating such an organism-"

"You've tried this on other people?" Cried a very stressed and tired Major. "What did you do to him?"

"Well, if you keep interrupting, you'll never find out, now will you?" He rolled his and looked to Prime. "Back to your former question. We have…enhanced the specimens' anatomy by slightly tweaking certain parts, and then, of course, letting the shard do the rest-"

"Hey, whoa, whoa, whoa," Epps intruded quickly, "What shard?"

The man continued as if he hadn't spoke, "Bone turned to metal, the inner most veins, _wires_." He had started to move towards the specimen. "Extraordinary, isn't it?" How does it feel?" He now spoke directly to Sam, for the first time. Sam looked slightly taken back. "To have everything heightened, all at once. To be able to take in every sight, sound, magnified just as theirs - he nodded to the 'Bots - is." The strange man sounded deranged and out of breath. Being examined made Sam uncomfortable. The man, crouching inches from his face, as Sam was still on his knees, poked his face. His pupils dilated and lips curved as his finger tip came in contact with something harder than bone.

Sensing Sam's discomfort, Bee came to the rescue by nudging him away and shielding Sam with his hand. The man narrowed his eyes at the Autobot. "Answer the question." Demanded Lennox.

He sighed, "The shard that put it into place. Completed it. Helped it survived the transformation. Without it, it would have undoubtedly died."

"_He_ wouldn't have needed the help if you just left him alone," Lennox retorted, "Now what shard? Can't be the Allspark, there aren't any left." He stated.

"No," the man replied, "Not the Allspark. The shard of a Decepticon, deceased," he added.

He looked up at Optimus. "You should know. I hear your kind can detect another's presence. Does his spark seem familiar to you?"

By the look on his face, Lennox could tell, Optimus had already guessed whose shard they used. Optimus looked away. After a moment's pause, "Why?" He asked.

The man smiled, "You'll see soon enough." He held up a black box to his mouth, keeping his eyes on Optimus. "How 'bout a test run?"

He turned to Sam, who through the whole conversation, was staring at the floor, eyes wide. "0-1-3, stand up." Sam had no choice but, to obey, he stood. "Good, now hmmm…stand on one leg." Sam did just that. The man laughed. "Okay, put it down." His gaze slid to Bumblebee's. "Attack the Camaro. A little one on one match."

Sam tensed, but thankfully Lennox stepped in, "You had your fun, now leave."

"But I was just getting started." He smiled evilly, then faced his attention back to Sam. "Attack it." He commanded. Sam faced Bee and crouched in his attack position, but did no more. He was fighting it. Bee back up a couple of steps.

The man's smile dropped, "Attack it." He repeated with more force. Sam growled at his opponent, but still did not move. The man pressed the red button.

The tiny chip in the back of Sam's neck received the signal, and sent an electric shock through the nerves of the brain.

He collapsed on the cold floor. Lennox, and a couple of soldiers, lunged at the former Sector 7 agent, known as Bragg. Whilst the others were trying to stop the man, Bumblebee was back in his crouched position, above Sam.

Sam had his hands behind his head, clawing at his neck. He knew there was something in there. Blood stained on and beneath his finger nails, while he ripped the skin away.

One soldier managed to loosen Bragg's grasp on the device, when two more grabbed his arms, restraining him.

A slight snap was audible in front of them. Sam was now on his feet. His hand was making a fist. He opened it. The crushed remains of the chips fell to the floor. His eyes blazed red as he turned to face them. He looked directly at Bragg. And smiled.

"My turn." He said with a growl, in a voice that was deeper than normal. Like the truck, Sam launched himself forward, only this time at Bragg. He had to have flow, at least, three feet through the air, to reach his target. The man was ripped out of the soldiers grasp. Bragg, now prostrate, slid a couple of feet back with Sam, bent at the knee, on top of him.

When they both came to a stop, Sam then put pressure on Bragg's shoulder, until he heard a satisfying crack, he cried out, then slashed the left side of the ex-agents cheek, making him scream more.

Someone grabbed Sam. The small amount of pressure of their fingers was enough to bother Sam. He swung the arm that was being held back, backwards striking his opposer. He heard another pleasant snap. The soldier, he struck, stumbled back, running into a wooden crate.

The reaction was the others charging forward to stop him. Sam maneuvered around them all, searching for an exit point. Even the Autobots had tried to grab him, when given the opportunity.

Sam reached the hangar door and turned to get out. One soldier had escaped the fray, and headed out to chase down Sam, who had started to slow his movements and figure out his next move. The grown man grabbed hold of the younger one's shoulder, but Sam had had enough of being manhandled. He turned to strike the soldier, so he could get away but, he underestimated his newly found strength.

His fist, which was aimed at the military's man stomach, broke right through. All the anger and hatred that surged through Sam, drain out. His red eyes dimmed, then faded.

His eyes widened, as did the soldiers'. The man slid from Sam's arm, which had punched a hole right through him, and fell to the ground.

Sam's intakes of air, which had stopped for those few seconds then, doubled. The human on the ground groaned in pain, blood flowed from his mouth, his heart beat was slowing. Then it stopped. His eyes glazed over. Dead.

Sam's mouth hung open in a silent gasp. His eyes wet. He was dead. And it was he who killed him. Sam had murdered him. He ran his blood covered hand through his hair, stressed.

Eventually the soldiers trying to catch him, caught up to him. One of them spotted him, started forward, and then stopped dead in his tracks. He stared down at the body, which lay limp on the tire streaked asphalt. He dropped to his knees. "Brother," he said in a far off voice.

One of the men, who was standing next to him, turned to find Sam. "There he is!" He pointed his index finger at Sam.

Sam snapped out of his shock and fled. He headed for the gates, at the far edge of the base. Before he could reached it, however, something yellow caught the corner of his eye. He turned back to the base.

The Autobots, delayed because of the humans running at their feet, had made it outside.

Bee stood, facing him. His face expressionless. Had he seen the body? "Bee…" He muttered hopefully. He could fix this, couldn't he? Sam jumped abruptly out of his thoughts, as a blast hit the pavement next to him. He could feel the heat coming off of the crater.

Ironhide had his cannons out, now pointed accurately at him, getting ready for another shot. Optimus took control, "Ironhide, stand down." He ordered. Ironhide did as commanded and powered down his cannons, but did not lower them. His optics and cannons never wavered from his target.

Sam knew then that, now, he was no longer welcome there anymore. He was outnumbered and alone. A voice inside him spoke.

"_Run…"_

He did as he was told. He turned and ran.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

Whether it be rain or shine, well, in this case rain. Starting over. Whether it be rain or shine, Sam Witwicky couldn't be more miserable.

He was cold and soaked, straight to the bone, as he made his way over to an old cavern on the side of a rocky plateau. And worst of all he was all alone.

He left the downpour behind him as he entered the hollow. He had on one to rely on. When he left the base he had felt abandoned, albeit he had it coming. Sam didn't understand what had happened. One minute he was fine, besides the whole experiment thing, then the next…he was an experiment gone wrong…something or _someone_ had taken over.

His mind was like a film reel, it kept replaying the incident over and over again. But only one thing was glued into his mind, something he wanted to forget, to never see again. When he realized what was happening…his arm… was inside the soldier's…the look on his face would haunt him forever. He had murdered him. Taken a life away.

He shivered and pulled the stolen trench coat tighter around himself.

Sam had not wanted to steal. Hadn't meant to. After he left the base he found himself strolling along deserted streets and alleyways, seeking shelter and warmth. It was there he ran into an old beggar, who had tried to jump him for money or anything else that was of use. His _'dark side'_ provided him with the extra strength to throw him off and take what he needed. What was happening to him?

Witwicky felt something tap the back of his leg. He spun around, catching a flash of silver out of the corner of his eye. He spun around again, then stopped. _This was silly_. Without moving his whole body this time, he repositioned himself until he could see behind him.

At the bottom of the coat there, he could see, was a hint of silver poking out from beneath the jacket. Slowly, Sam lifted the clothing to get a better look.

He sucked in a breath of air and instantly let go of the coat. He then proceeded to lean back up against the rock wall that made up one side of the cave, and slide down until he was sitting.

After a few moments, he finally had the guts to look at what was lying next to him.

Beside him was, approximately, a four foot long metallic tail. When had that appeared? He cautiously reached over and plucked it from the hard ground. The tail had an eerie similarity to the one he found on Alice, the pretender, almost a year ago. The tip was as sharp as a blades.

He wondered if he could make it move. He thought about. The tail suddenly twitched in his hand. He let go immediately, then tried direct his focus to anywhere, but there.

Since he'd been here, he had failed to notice the quality of his vision. Even in the dark, he could see through it like it was glass. Everything was in perfect detail. He could count the number of cracks there were in the walls and the number of creepy crawlies surrounding him.

Sam set his head down on a small rock near him, using his arm as a pillow, and drew the coat closer in, to act as a blanket.

All he needed was a goodnight's sleep to clear his incoherent mind. Tomorrow was a new day. A fresh start. He would figure out what to do then. He dreaded when that moment would come. He just hoped the Autobots hadn't completely abandoned him.

* * *

><p>However, unlike Samuel James Witwicky's thoughts, he wasn't completely alone.<p>

Hiding, just outside the cavern, under the protection of a great oak tree, a pair of blood red eyes lurked through the shadows.

The metallic bird was perched on the edge of a branch that he had stripped earlier, as he scanned through the rain and into the hollow.

Laserbeak was astonished. He had never encountered such a unique creature, like the one in the cave. Half human, half Cybertronian. It wasn't natural. He had the right mind to just go down there and put it out of its misery. It disgusted the great winged alien. But something had stopped him. That spark signature was familiar.

_Perhaps_, thought Laserbeak, _there is still hope for his Lord's wishes and dreams_. The non-organic bird shook the excess water droplets from his chassis, spread his wings and soared through the air. Thunder rumbled from above. It was time to report back again, and this time his master would be pleased.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

After a long restless night, Major William Lennox sought his way through the channels of the base and into the hangar.

He stopped to run his hand roughly over his dreary face and into his unruly hair. _Such a mess_, he thought. The day ahead of him, not to mention yesterdays, just spelled disaster. Liaison Galloway was standing off to the side as far away from the Autobots as he could, flipping through the pages of his clipboard he always had close by.

It was there that you would find a scheduled meeting, Lennox and his team had, with General Morshower. They needed to discuss what had happened and they needed to receive orders on what to do next.

An anguished voice to his left caught his attention. Epps sat next to a soldier as he tried to console him. The time that it took Lennox to walk over to the both he was able to identify the soldier as John Smith. It was his brother who had passed away, Carl Smith.

Epps and Lennox made eye contact and, with a few softly spoken words to Smith, got up and met Lennox halfway.

"You're late," Epps smirked. Only he could find time to smile at a moment like this. Lennox waved him off. "Yeah, I know." A seconds pause then, "Did you find them?"

"Who?" Epps replied, "The men or - he look back at John, who as eyeing them, and lowered his voice - or Sam -"

"Don't you speak that monster's name," They both turned to the sharp voice. Unfortunately, he had heard their conversation. "I saw what he - _it _- did."

Epps sighed. "We've been through this, John," he spoke gently as if to a child as he continued, "It wasn't his fault, Sam didn't know what he was doing."

Off to the side of the hangar Galloway paused briefly in his work before continuing.

Back to the conversation, John wasn't having any of it, he shook his head. "No, I saw him. I saw his eyes." His voice started to rise, drawing attention to himself from around him. "His eyes were normal when he did it. I saw it!"

Soldiers had managed to make their way over during his rant and took him away to try to calm him down.

"Shouldn't he be home," voiced Lennox as he watched John's retreating figure, "I mean, his brother just died."

Epps had an answer for that. "Somebody will be taking him home shortly. They have to get ready and plan for the funeral - which we'll be attending," Epps added giving Lennox a look. "They have notified the family already. Carl had a wife and daughter. The daughter is ill. His wife was a stay at home mom so she could take care of her."

Lennox cursed. _Just great_. Not only were they responsible for a soldiers death, but to make matters worse fate just had to be cruel and throw them a family with a sick child and a mother out of a job.

"To answer your earlier question," Epps continued, "No, the men took off once things got hairy and…we couldn't find any trace of him, sorry Will."

"It's okay, Rob, we'll find him." To be honest, Lennox did not know what was going to happen when they did find Sam. He did murder someone, but how were they going to explain to the authorities that Sam's mind and body had been taken over by an ancient, evil extraterrestrial foe that had once tried to destroy our sun for energy and conquer the universe. _Yeah, that'll be convincing_, he thought sourly.

Over to the side of the hangar, Galloway checked his watch. "Alright people, let's go, meeting starts now!"

"God, I hate that man." Epps leaned over to mutter in Lennox's ear. "We should head up there."

Lennox agreed glumly, dreading every step that he took as they made their way over to the catwalk, so they'd be able to talk with the Autobots face to face. They had a lot of explaining to do. Ever since the incident, Galloway had made sure to make their lives, here at the base, a living hell. Holding it over their heads threatening his job and NEST.

Lennox let out another sigh and looked towards the screen starting up and, now, projecting the high ranking face of General Morshower. Time to get this meeting over with.

* * *

><p>There was once a time when the Decepticon base was a place of torture and suffering. When enemy spies would enter and never be seen again. Where an enemy's torment would be drawn out for as long as possible before its sentence would be carried out.<p>

These days, however, it was practically empty. With no pleasant cries of pain ringing through Lord Megatron's audio receptors, it made his mood all the more worse with every second of silence that passed as he sat on his "throne". Location: an old abandoned warehouse in the state of Pennsylvania.

A rat scurried across the hardwood flooring, among the heaps of scrap, in search of food, earning a disgusted scowl from the leader of the Decepticons. No wonder the inferior fleshlings had forsaken this place. Disgusting organic life.

The sound of an F-22 Raptor made Megatron glance up from his thoughts. Starscream transformed in mid-air and proceeded to drop to his feet as he touched down to land. He moved tentatively into the warehouse.

Starscream stepped to his leader and bowed. Megatron growled. "Have you've failed me, again, Starscream?"

"My Lord-" Too late, Megatron had gotten up and slammed him to the ground. The rat darted out of sight.

"I-" Starscream started but was cut off again.

"Don't!" His superior ordered. He knew of the endless apologies that were forming in Starscream's mouth. "Your condolences are meaningless!"

"I'm sorry!" He pleaded and in return received a foot to the face. "What did I just say?"

"S-sorry, my Lord," he choked out. A frustrated growl ripped through Megatron's throat as he grinded his foot against Starscreams chassis.

An irritating squawk sounded from above, interrupting Megatron. He looked up at Laserbeak, perched upon a wooden beam, who had on a smug smile.

The bird ducked his head. "My Lord."

Megatron locked optics with him. "Come to be the bearer of more bad news?"

Laserbeak broke their gaze to smirk down at Starscream. It was well known that they had a small rivalry with one another. Starscream had once, and still did, mock Laserbeak for not being a "true" flier. Starscream and his trine relied on their thrusters to take flight whilst Laserbeak relied on his wings and the air, like an organic.

Although Laserbeak had proven time and time again that he was a valuable asset to their cause, due to his more subtle approach, Starscream wouldn't hear it. As Laserbeak had put it, he was a more evolved from Cybertronian. The future of flight.

As he gazed down upon Starscream his grin grew. They had these little…competitions on who was the best at scouting. Starscream usually lost. And with today's findings he was sure to win. Maybe even score some bonus points.

"No, my Lord, I come to bear good news." Laserbeak stated.

Megatron sighed in relief. Last time he blew a gasket. He was most definitely not pleased on how things went down in Venice. Then his thoughts grew hopeful. "Did you locate the enemy base?"

"No," he spoke bluntly.

"Then what is it?" He growled, growing frustrated again.

"It's the boy, Witwicky."

"Did he finally expire?" The thought made Megatron briefly gleeful.

"No," Laserbeak repeated.

"Then what is it! Why would I care about what that fleshing does?" He roared.

"It's not what he does," Laserbeak replied calmly. "It's what he is, or rather, what's inside him."

Megatron paused. He was clearly intrigued. "Go on." He pressed.

Laserbeak began to recount. "While I was out scouting for the enemy base - which I'm fairly sure I was nearing - I happened to stumble upon the boy by an old cavern, located two thousand, and five hundred and forty-five miles west of our current position."

Laserbeak then proceed to report on what he found about the boys anatomy and what was inside his, now apparently, spark."

Megatron went quiet, then with hushed enthusiasm, "Are you sure?"

"Positive." Laserbeak replied with confidence.

"And you're going to believe him so easily?" A voice spoke up behind the pair. "He's as clever as he is weak." During Laserbeak's report, Starsream had managed to pick himself up.

"Are you implying that I am dense?" Laserbeak inquired.

"No, I'm implying that you are useless!" Retorted Starscream. Laserbeak hissed in defiance taking that statement as a challenge. He raised his wings and prepared to pounce.

"Enough!" Roared an infuriated Megatron, having to listening to them bicker back and forth in his presence was getting on his nerves.

After a moment of silence, Starscream had the "guts" to speak. "Your orders, master?" He reluctantly asked.

"May I suggest," Started Laserbeak, "On sending one to collect the child, then we'll find a way to extract the shard." He made optic contact. "Just think, my Lord. You finally have a chance to claim what's rightfully yours. To take what your late master had promised, yet failed to provide."

Megatron silently agreed as he nodded his behemoth sized head. "I will send someone within the hour, these plans cannot be delayed. Leave me." He had much to think about.

Laserbeak and Starscream, having been use to Megatron's sharpness, filed out of the so called base together. Starscream abruptly stopped and turned to glare at the bird, who had flown up to a mound of rumble.

"Listen, I've had enough of you." He snarled. "I'm Megatron's second in command, go it. I'm not about to be replaced by some wannabe pigeon. Just stay out of my way, are we clear?"

Laserbeak sat up straight and narrowed his eyes 'till his gaze was level with the other. "Crystal."

Starscream returned the look then stomped off in anger. Laserbeak smirked in amusement and shook his head. He then prepared himself to sit and wait for the delivery service.

* * *

><p>"Recommended procedure?" Lennox inquired as he stared up at the face of General Morshower.<p>

They have been discussing this quite a while. Morshower, Lennox, and the rest of his team, each contradicting one another. What were they going to do about Sam?

Morshower stayed quiet for a moment. Obviously thinking of the best possible solution for this particular occasion. He had not been pleased about the death on the Major's watch. He was quite shocked about the whole thing. "Kill on site."

Lennox looked flabbergasted. "What-but, sir, just give us time-"

"That's an order, Major." The General barked.

Lennox started to protest and when Morshower looked about to cut in, Lennox sputtered. "Look, just hear me out."

The General paused. "I'm listening."

The Major breathed. "Just-just let us find him and bring him back to the base-"`

"No," Morshower stopped him, "In you haven't noticed, one of your comrades in dead now because of him."

Epps stepped up next to Lennox. "Let us explain. We bring him back, alive, and then we can go from there, Talk to him. Compromise, I mean. Work something out. I'm sure the Autobot`s medic could help him." He turned to Ratchet and he nodded. Although unsure if anything could be done. "No one else needs to die."

General Morshower looked out to every member of the team. Sideswipe was standing next to Bumblebee; who looked tense; he did not want to go kill his charge; the one he was supposed to protect. Ironhide looked like he couldn't care less and Wheelie, partially hidden behind a couple of worn out tire wheels.

Wheelie had managed to escape the truck, he was held in, before it took off. It was he who help with the explanation and get a better understanding of what exactly the two ex-agents; Bragg and Johnston; did to Sam.

Morshower sighed. "Alright, I'll give you three weeks' time, but after that your orders are to terminate. I will not have a menace running around the country killing mindlessly."

Seeing that was the best agreement they would get Lennox nodded and the meeting ended.

Climbing down from the catwalk, on his way to Optimus, who had moved toward the edge of the hangar, Lennox passed by Bumblebee. The yellow mech nodded to him, his face expressed gratitude. William nodded back understanding. He was grateful for Lennox stepping in and saving his charge.

He continued his way over to the tall, red and blue 'bot. He looked upwards. The Big Guy's face had wary written all over it. "You okay?" He said trying to get him to talk. He wasn't successful. He had barely spoken more than a few words during the meeting.

"I am functioning correctly if that what you mean," he replied quietly. Lennox sighed in frustration. "No, I don't mean physically, Optimus, what's wrong? You've hardly said a word since the incident."

Prime followed William's example and sighed. "This should not be happening."

"Don't worry," Lennox solemnly said, "We'll get out of this mess, we always do."

They went back to gazing back out the hangar door. Last night's cool temperatures then this morning's sudden rise had left a light fog drifting over the plain.

"Major!" The cry of a young soldier drew back the military man's attention. "Report," he responded calmly but with urgency, getting rid of any unwanted thoughts.

The soldier stopped short of his superior, his back straight and head held high. "There has been a distress call coming from the small town known as Sutcliffe, northwest of here, 23 miles. It seems to be under attack, sir."

Lennox paused. "Decepticons?" He looked up to the towering blue and red mech.

"No, the Energon readers have picked up on nothing of the sort." The soldier answered him. Since the battle in Egypt, the government had ordered for every city or area to carry these detectors for such a case of a Decepticon attack.

The Big Guy confirmed the statement and looked down to Lennox. "What he speaks is true. I cannot find a strong signal of any Decepticon I know of but…"

"But what?" Lennox asked.

Optimus shook his head. "Nothing." His body then started to twist and turn as he transformed from bipedal to alternative form. Lennox stared long and hard at the truck, trying to decipher the mech's thoughts.

"Orders, sir." Lennox snapped out of his musings. He had forgotten that the soldier was still standing next to him. He sighed. "Let's move out."

Epps followed over to where Lennox has stopped as everyone hurried to prepare. He saw the Majors concerned expression as he watched Optimus gather his own team. "You don't think it's-"

"I don't know," Lennox cut him off, "Maybe." Something told him that what Optimus had felt was just the man that they were looking for.

* * *

><p>The Humvee travelled through the streets of the city, as pedestrians on the sidewalk glanced towards its way, wondering why on Earth was there a military vehicle this far into town.<p>

In the back of the automobile sat John Smith who was staring down at his feet as if it were of any interest to him. Or so the driver thought.

In fact John Smith was making plans. He wanted him-_it_-dead. He wanted revenge for what it did to his brother, what it did to his family.

The soldier lifted his head to look out the window. _After the funeral_, he thought. He would begin hunting for that monster after the funeral. And he would be the one to kill it. After all, the thing was against nature. An insult to life itself. Those two things, metal and organic, should never be mixed.

But he was getting ahead of himself. He would deal with his pain in silence and pay his respects to his brother and be there for his family. He would wait for everything to calm down so he'll be more focused. Then he will begin his hunt.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

The fog was thicker in Sutcliffe. Or maybe that was the smoke. The air was heavy with moisture as the remaining particles of soot billowed up into the atmosphere.

Whole houses and buildings burnt to the ground or on the edge of collapse. The smell of charcoal coated the air surrounding the town with a couple flakes of ash. Among the wreckage a small group of humans were hidden under a folded in house, shrouded by splinters of wood.

A woman and her two children held their breath and watched as the person/thing who brought this destruction to their home leisurely walked by, unaware of their presence.

He walked among the broken remains of wood, concrete and metal once used for a means of shelter. He stopped, closed his eyes, and slowly breathed in the smell of burning wood. His mouth opened slightly as if tasting the scent. Then he let it out, and his eyes were open once more, burning a brighter red then before.

The woman, hidden underneath bits of debris, straightened to get a better look, to check if the coast was clear and then would proceed to get her children to safety by following the townspeople example, and get the hell out of there.

But as she started to sit up a small piece of wood shifted and clattered to the ground.

The young man's head snapped toward the sound so fast that if she blinked she would've missed it. She ducked back down, holding on to her children's scuffed hands. A moments silence fell after that. She dared herself to look again.

The woman peeked back up and…he was gone. Instinctively, her anxiety level rose. Her children's breaths ragged. Where was he? Did he leave? Was he gone? Was it safe for her and her children to run?

She looked down to her son and daughter, and gave them a reassuring look. Thankfully, they had only suffered minor scrapes and bruises.

She sat up further. Her breathing still distraught. Still, she was met with silence. Just as she was about the let out a breath of relief, something from above grabbed her and hulled her up.

She screamed.

* * *

><p>The scream echoed through the air as Lennox and his team arrived.<p>

Stepping out of the vehicle, Lennox looked around. The smell of burning oil invaded his nostrils. The sky was overcast; the sun blocked by clouds and smoke. Most of the town was destroyed for what he could see. Structures crumbled or burnt. Some areas still set aflame.

It was barren. "It looks deserted," said Lennox.

Epps came up beside him. "Most people have already fled town, I suppose."

Lennox nodded. "We'll spread out to cover more ground. Maybe we'll find out what happened."

And with that in mind, Lennox divided them into groups whilst Optimus contributed by adding one or two Autobots to Lennox's already established teams and sent them out into specific areas of the town.

"Check for any survivors," Lennox called as the groups retreated. Then Optimus and Lennox followed behind.

With the Autobots help they'd manage to lift away heavy debris in order to search. To his relief, they found no dead bodies.

They searched thoroughly, trying to find any trace of life, but it seemed as if everyone left once the fire broke out.

Optimus kept in contact with the others, apparently, they had found some survivors and they were currently receiving medical attention. That was good. What was bad was that none of them had seen what had happened. They just saw that everyone else had started to run and scream and they'd panicked, trying to escape whatever was attacking them.

Still no sign of any other survivors until - "Lennox!" The voice rang out through the silence.

The soldier was on his knees trying to reach into a collapsed house when he called to him. Lennox ran to him. "What you'd find?"

The soldier pointed down into the house. "Look," he said in a hushed tone. Lennox crouched down and peered into what looked to be a basement, maybe. But it was so beaten down it was hard to tell.

There, flattened as far against the wall as she could go, was a little girl. Maybe seven or eight years old. Her eyes widen as Lennox came into view. She squeezed the teddy bear she was holding tightly as if it would protect her from harm.

The teddy bear and herself were covered in dirt, soot, and…was that blood? She had a few scrapes but there was too much blood for that. It looked as if the blood had been spattered onto her. There were some on what was left of the walls too.

"Hey," Lennox said reaching in trying to coax her. "It's alright nothings gonna hurt you, c'mon." But she wouldn't come. She continued to stare, keeping her eye on the threat.

"She won't come out," the soldier spoke quietly.

Lennox turned. "Optimus!" As soon as he got there he explained the situation. "We need you to lift the debris out of the way so we can get to her. Be careful we don't want it to collapse."

Lennox did not need to worry about the Autobots existence being exposed. This was no time for subtlety. Besides everyone was bound to notice sooner or later.

Optimus lifted what he could as Lennox dropped in. There was no room for the girl to run so she let herself be gathered and taken away from the place she had once called her home. Optimus dropped the rubble. "I need a doctor!" Lennox shouted.

One of the team's medics rushed over. There was no telling how much smoke she inhaled and Lennox wasn't about to risk it.

She received an oxygen face mask to hold while the medic started fixing her cuts. Lennox decided that this was his chance. "Can you tell me what happened?" He spoke softly. "Who caused this?"

The girl hesitated then nodded. Obviously meant for his first question.

"He took my mommy and brother," her voice sounded rough and scratched. He ordered for some water.

Lennox took the mask from her and offered her the water. "Did you see what happened?"

After a big gulp from the bottle, she was ready to explain. "Yes," she said. "I and a couple of friends were playing when we saw this guy. But he was different."

Lennox nodded, inviting her to continue. "How was he different?"

"Well, he had a tail," Lennox looked skeptical, so she further explained. "A metal one and the other guys started picking on him, they said he looked like a…bum?" She looked at Lennox confused.

He nodded, understanding. "Go on."

"They started throwing rocks at him. That's when he got mad. Something was wrong with his eyes. They were red."

Epps has walked over. "What did he do?"

The girl eyed the newcomer for a second before turning back to Lennox. "I don't know. I ran back to my house then that's when I heard the screaming and saw fire."

Epps then pulled out a photo. "Was this the guy?" He leaned down to show her the image.

She glanced at it and nodded. "He took my mommy." She started to sob.

Lennox let the doctor take over then. "So, Sam is here."

"Or was," said Epps. "He might have left."

"Let's hope we can find him." He went to Optimus who had no doubt been listening to the conversation. He was wearing the same expression he had at the base. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing." Lennox almost believed him.

"Optimus," Lennox used the same tone he used whenever he disciplined his daughter.

The Big Guy sighed. "I was just worrying."

"About?"

"About what might be happening to Sam," he said. "There were certain…abilities that made The Fallen infamous."

"Like what?" Lennox asked.

"I will explain later, but now we should be using this time to locate Sam and any other survivors." Optimus looked ahead.

Lennox followed his gaze then immediately wanted to slap himself in the face. The rest of the group had moved at a steady pace, already far ahead of them.

Lennox and Optimus caught up with the group. He looked up attentively at Optimus. "So, you think that Sam might be developing these…abilities?" He quietly asked.

"I believe," Optimus said. "That he may have acquired some of his traits, yes."

They remained quiet after that.

* * *

><p>Sam dragged the human female away from where he had found her. She had kept screaming until he had threatened her offspring in order shut her up.<p>

Unfortunately, the youngling had escaped and now that irritating high-pitched whine rung through his ears.

He made it to the edge of town and threw her to the ground. She landed in a heap, disrupting the fallen ash. Sam stepped down on one of her legs to prevent escape, then crouched and reached down to touch the blood flowing from a wound that he had created.

He lifted his hand a watched as the blood on his fingers glistened in the light. He put it to his mouth to taste and spit it out. "Filthy human," he snarled.

Sam closed his hand around her throat and lifted her off the ground. He enjoyed listening to her choke for air…that is until the interruption.

He heard someone approaching. He felt the vibrations that shook the Earth beneath him. He let go of the human as an unfamiliar Decepticon came into view.

The female ran, but he hardly noticed. His undivided attention was trained on his new target.

The Decepticon transformed his arm into a cannon and aimed it straight at him. _Him_. This worthless pile of scrap had dared to challenge _him_. _The Fallen_.

The Decepticon unleashed a volley of bullets, but Sam easily evaded them. Running up to his target, Sam's arm transformed into a blade. He sliced through cables on the Decepticon's feet, crippling him, as he tried to use them to squash him or try to catch him with his hands.

On his knees, the Decepticon extended his arm towards him and Sam took this as an opportunity. He jumped up onto his arm as he transformed his blade in favour of a cannon instead.

This move surprised the Decepticon for he stumbled backwards a bit until he regained balance. By that time Sam had made it to his shoulder and released his own volley of fire power.

Each hit striking between the plates, damaging inner wiring. Sam edged his way behind his helm, grabbing on. For a Decepticon, he wasn't that big. _Or bright_, Sam thought, smirking as the Decepticon tried to reach behind him, hoping to grab him. But his feat was unsuccessful.

The tip of Sam's tail was just sharp enough. He plunged it deep into his chassis, breaking through the Decepticon's spark chamber. The Decepticon's lenses started to go dark as Sam finished it by twisting his head off.

He jumped down from the Decepticon.

* * *

><p>High upon a perch, on the edge of town, red optics blazed with fury as he watched his fellow Decepticon collapse, offline.<p>

They had failed once again. Obviously they had underestimated their opponent.

He picked up a signal that the Autobots were heading this way. He stretched his wings and jumped from his perch, flying against the wind. The smell of soot still flooding his olfactory sensors.

It was time to deliver to Megatron. But it was unfortunate for Laserbeak, that he was not getting what he had ordered.

* * *

><p>The crimson red of the iris faded back to brown as Sam reclaimed control. He looked down to the, now, offline Decepticon and around into the area that he had destroyed.<p>

_Did I do that?_

He looked at the collapsed buildings and he hoped, no, prayed that he didn't kill anybody. He didn't remember if he had. Everyone had ran out of town which was good. He was only searching for food when he was discovered by the children.

Sam heard someone called out his name to his left. "Sam!" Cried a familiar voice.

He looked over and saw Lennox and some of the others from the base. He saw Optimus and Epps. He saw the woman he had grabbed and her two children looking at him with fear plain in their eyes.

All of his instincts told him to run.

And he did just that.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

The funeral for Carl B. Smith was held at nine-thirty a.m. Sunday morning. The sky, much like the mood, was gloomy. Grey clouds circled overhead, forewarning them of the rain to come.

Soldiers lowered their heads in respect for their fallen comrade as the eulogizer spoke a few words. Through all of the ceremony, John Smith did not utter one word.

He stood next to the Major near the edge of the coffin which was covered in their national flag. They all stood wearing their best uniforms. All dressed in black.

There was a light breeze that swept through the cemetery. Carrying the smell of rotting wood and rain from the nearby woods.

There was a moment of silence before the casket lowered into the ground. The only sound came from Carl's wife, Melinda, standing on the other side of John. She was sobbing lightly into a handkerchief. Then the soldiers off to the side began the gun salutes.

It has started to rain after the funeral was finished as they walked back to their vehicles. There were only a few Autobots present. Seeing as they couldn't transform, they'd stayed in the parking lot. They didn't want to give the family a heart attack. One death was enough.

Everyone was pulling out umbrellas when John caught up with Lennox. "Would it be alright if I stayed back for a few minutes, Major?"

"Of course," said Lennox sincerely.

With a brief nod, John turned back the way he came.

* * *

><p>While the ceremony had been taking place, Sam Witwicky had been watching from the protective shadows of the woods. His presence completely cloaked.<p>

It had started to rain when the others had left. Stepping away from his sanctuary, Sam walked over to the hole in the ground.

Hopefully the diggers won't be coming over here anytime soon. Or better yet, when he wasn't here.

He looked down at the tombstone and read it.

**Here Lies**

**Carl B. Smith**

**Oct. 24 1981 - Nov. 19 2011**

**Loved his family, nation, and God**

It was short and simple. Sam bowed his head to pay his respects. The sound of a gun cocked behind him. He turned.

John Smith was standing a few metres away beneath an old, oak tree. The rain pasted his hair to his forehead as did Sam's. And the silver hand gun was pointed directly at him.

At the site of this, Sam felt a familiar power of energy surge in him, flooding through his veins, trying to take control. But he did not allow it. He pushed his inner demon back down into the abyss where it belonged. He was exhausted. But he could handle this on his own.

Sam locked his gaze with the soldier. John spoke first. "Did you even know his name?" he asked. It had started to pour now.

Sam didn't answer. He was right. He had not known Carl's name until he read it on the stone. He remained silent.

"Did you even know his name?" John bellowed. It almost sounded like a demand.

Again Sam said nothing. He didn't know what he could say besides "sorry". But he had a feeling that that wouldn't cut it.

The gun fired.

* * *

><p>The others who were waiting for John heard the shout and the gun fire, and came running back.<p>

Smith was crouched down at his brother's grave, limply holding the gun. Lennox rushed over and snatched the weapon away. "What happened?"

"I'm going to find him," John said in a no-nonsense behavior.

"What?" asked Lennox

"I won't miss next time," he continued. "I will get him…I'm gonna kill _it_."

His tone was dead serious, leaving a startled Major confused.

* * *

><p>Out back in the woods, a pair of eyes looked out at the scene, watching the group gather.<p>

His body filled with one strong emotion: remorse.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

The musty smell of the streets and roads filled the air early Wednesday morning downtown. Jaywalkers, salesmen could be found throughout the sidewalks while in shady back alleys, drug dealers and the homeless.

The sound of honking cars and the low murmur of people on their cell phones could be heard. Steam erupted from a manhole, bringing the stench of the sewer up with it. Crowds of people and cars squished together as they hurried to get to work in the early rush hour.

Everything was of the norm.

Heading out of the passage, Sam joined the flood of humans. Moving through the crowd Sam recoiled from the smoke that was blown in his face by a group of smokers who smirked at his reaction.

His fury and disgust rose, but he managed to keep it satiated. "Loathsome humans," he muttered. Sam turned his head and looked down behind him, just to be safe. He saw no metallic limb. _Good_, he thought.

He's found out earlier this morning that he was able to hide it from view; retracting it back into his body. Yet, secretly, he felt safer that it was still there; in case he needed it to spring into action if there is any approaching danger.

He kept on walking, unsure of what to do or how to fix his problem. People were constantly bumping into him and each other. But he kept walking, keeping his head down and muttering quick, quick apologies; no one acknowledged him.

One woman was coming out of a sidewalk store. Too busy tucking away an item she bought in her purse she didn't noticed Sam until she ran straight into him.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said, her British accent was the first thing Sam noticed about her. She was about to step around him when she looked up and glance at him. She stopped. Their eyes locked.

It was Carly Spencer.

"You…You're Sam Witwicky, right?" she said.

He couldn't just walk away now. "Yeah…Carly, right?" As if he could forget. A smile stretched across her face, "Yes," she says, "You remembered."

Sam looked around at the people having to swivel by them, cleared his throat. "Yes, well, it was nice seeing you again. I should be going." It was obvious that she hadn't heard what had happened, but it was only a matter of time before she did. Besides he needs to keep a low profile.

Sam ducked his head back down and step aside to pass when she caught his arm, forcing him to look back up at her. "Are you okay?" she asked. "You seem…," she paused trying to think of the appropriate word. "Different," she decided.

Sam tried to stay as aloof as possible. "I'm - I am different. I feel…" He inwardly cursed; he was making a fool of himself.

She surprised him by her smiling.

He felt like a volcano ready to burst. His heart was racing and his blood shot upwards, staining his cheeks. He needed to keep moving; he turned to leave. Her next words shocked him, "Would you like to - hang out sometime?"

He turned back. "Hang out?" He was hesitant. Was this some kind of joke? Nobody usually expressed any interest in him. Especially not at a time like this.

"Why not?" she said. "We could go and grab a bite to eat together - tonight?" She smiled again.

He barely her heard over the pounding of his heart. "Oh, tonight?" He couldn't; he had to get out of the city and away from the base until he could fix his problem. "I can't. I have - work to do," he finished, hoping it was a good enough excuse. This was the first time _he_ decline a date.

A feeling started to rise in him, almost like a tiny little voice controlling his thoughts; telling him what to do. Once he's left town and put an adequate distance between himself and the Autobots, he could then start to formulate a plan; gather forces and then strike - strike? Where was this coming from?

Carly was still talking, "Oh, that's too bad," she looked a little disappointed. Why? Then, "I'm working tomorrow, what about Thursday?"

She was persistent. "Thursday? I -" he glanced at her face. He couldn't say no. Who in their right mind would? He may never get another chance like this again. "Thursday," he concluded, nodding his head. "That sounds great."

She smiled. "It's a date. Eight o'clock, this very spot. I'll pick the restaurant." She bid him goodbye and started down the sidewalk again as if nothing happen.

There was no way he'd ever be ready for a date with Carly Spencer. She was a goddess. He looked towards a small grocery store across the street. First things first. He needed breakfast.

* * *

><p>The smell of dead flesh encased in plastic wrap filled Sam's nostrils as he sucked in a breath of cool air. The smell made him queasy; he wanted to hurl all over the frozen meats section.<p>

He couldn't even walk into a grocery store without being nauseous. His new and improved olfactory senses attacked his brain, sending signals; telling him exactly what was in every pre-packaged food, right down to the very last chemical. He can't believe he'd once actually consumed this junk. The only place he could stand to be was the fruits and vegetable section and some parts of the meats section. If only humans could smell this…they might actually think twice about what they put into their systems.

He started his way back towards the produce, thinking about what he might like. When a voice caught his attention. "Oh, no, really. I'm fine," a woman sniffled.

She stood a ways back, picking up foods as she walked by. She was talking into her phone. Her eyes were red and swollen. She's been crying. Sam knew he shouldn't be eavesdropping, but he couldn't help but feel that he knew her from somewhere…

"No, I don't need you here. I can pick up my own groceries, thank you. How is she?" She paused for a minute. "Good, just keep an eye on her. I should be home shortly." She bade the person on the other end of the phone goodbye; hung up and slipped the phone into her purse.

When she looked up, Sam got a full frontal view of her face. Flashbacks flooded his memory. A woman, dressed in black; sobbing softly I into a handkerchief, clinging to an arm, the dreary backdrop. Mrs.…Smith? The realization hit him like a freight train gaining maximal momentum. A heavy weight sat on his shoulders now. _Ms._ Smith that is.

He watched the newly found widow make her way between aisles. Sam had a sudden impulse to follow her. Was it because of him that she was crying? It wouldn't take a genius to find out. Very soon she had reached the check out and was in the parking lot. She kept walking; cleared lot. She mustn't live that far from here, Sam assumed. Despite the little voice's protests, he followed.

* * *

><p>From the dark recesses of an alleyway, the man stood, watching the boy make his progress southward. He took out his phone and earnestly typed in a message, a report to his employer. After slipping it back inside his pocket he continued following the subject, waiting for a reply.<p>

* * *

><p>A couple of blocks later, Mrs. - <em>Ms.<em> Smith entered an apartment building, climbing up the stairs, carrying her groceries and ducking inside. Sam cursed, how was he supposed to get in? He'd have no one to call up.

Glancing about, Samuel spotted a fire escape. He approached it, checking his surroundings again as if he was about to cross a street. He placed his foot upon the iron wrought step. It was a bit rusted from the rain and creaked as it adjusted to his weight.

He was sure what which room Ms. Smith was in. How would he find it? He wondered as he look up at the building. Suddenly a wave, the colour of the air, moved across his vision. He flinched. Then his sight changed. He could see _through_ the walls. Though it was in infrared. He soon caught sight of someone walking down a hall carrying bags. His vision zoomed. That must be her. She took out a set of keys and unlocked an apartment door.

Sam looked back down and squeezed his eyes shut. When they opened again his vision was back to normal. Room 146. The thought came immediately to him. Mentally calculating where it is located. He started working up the stairs. He was in luck there was a window on the left side of the building, right along the fire escape.

Eventually he found the right room. He looked into the window, he just needed to find what the damage was; what he'd done. He immediately drew back, lying flat against the wall. He could see the kitchen through the open doorway of the room, adjacent to the window. Currently, Ms. Smith was putting away the groceries while another woman sat close by on a small kitchen isle. He cautiously leaned back in.

The room, in which the window belonged to, was painted in a soft rose pink. The walls held crudely drawn pictures that seemed to improve in artistic value as they continued down the wall. He looked around. There was a white dresser with a rectangular mirror vertically attached to the back. Stuck to the mirror were photos of, what he assumed were, family and friends and one long plastic, purple beaded necklace; it lay draped across along the top right corner of the mirror to the bottom left, falling half way down the mirror. On the floor was placed a toy box. A small blanket, halfway sticking out of the lid. There were a few toys scattered around the room nearby. A child's bedroom.

Movement caught his attention to his left. He ducked sharply back beside the window. After a few minutes he looked back in. To his left, were the movement was, was the bed. The head board was against his side of the wall. Sam noticed that the bed was occupied. The pink and white blankets bundled up a child. Dark brown hair was lain on the across the pillows, matted and tangled from tossing and turning. Her skin was pale and was very faintly spotted with freckles on and around her nose. On her nose he also noticed there were plastic tubes. This child was sick.

He saw another motion by the door and quickly moved out of the way again. Ms. Smith, he supposed, went in and check on her daughter.

"How is she?" asked the woman at the island. Her long, blonde hair was tied into a pony tail at the base of her neck. The mother walked back out to the kitchen. Giving Sam an opportunity to glance back in the window. He breathed in a sigh of relief.

"Still asleep," Ms. Smith replied. Her back was turned on him, successfully blocking the other woman's, Sam assumed was Ms. Smith's sister given the physical similarities, view of him.

"Are you sure you don't need the money," the sister asked. "I can look into my account I should have something."

"No," Ms. Smith said rather sharply, then quieted her voice and spoke much softer. "No. Thank you but, you've already helped enough, more than I could've asked."

"You're too proud for your own good, Meredith." says the other.

Meredith scowled. "You sound like mother."

"That's because she was right."

Meredith Smith turned away, opened the fridge and started to prepare a meal with the new groceries. The sister followed her movements with her eyes, turning her head to watch. "I'm sorry about Carl."

Ms. Smith fumbled with the knife she was using to chop vegetables. "I know…you've told me fifty seven times now." There was silence for a few minutes. Ms. Smith started up the stove, filled a pot with water, and started to boil it.

The sister was speaking again, "John will be coming over sometime later," she said. "He thinks he might have some money to help with Madison."

Ms. Smith sigh and gave in. "Fine." The other sister gathered her things and walked out.

Sam, after he'd seen enough, started to move back down the fire escape. When he reached the bottom he leaned his forehead against the brick wall of the building. This was all his fault, he thought. _If I didn't…then they wouldn't be in this situation._ The sound of cars moving by invaded his ears as he wallowed in grief. After several minutes he turned his head, without leaving the wall, and looked down the street. Eventually he worked his way down it and found a small café a few blocks away and sat down at a table.

Across the street he noticed a jewelry store. The customers looking down at the diamond rings and silver necklaces; the employees helping them with their selections and purchases. Then Sam started to study the structure of the building; the windows, doors…escapes. He grabbed a napkin at the table and asked a waitress for a pen. Without really thinking he started mapping out the jewelry store. Eventually he would go in and get a closer look.

Madison Smith needed help - money. He owed it to her and her family, and he knew just where to get it.


End file.
